I was at one of those antique malls. The one with the fluorescent light and the endless rows of stuff. The one with the shelves jam packed with "antiques" that don't always speak to me. There was an upstairs section and I hesitatingly climbed the steps. This rustic, welded, "cruddy" copper pot was sitting alone on the floor. I wonder its' history, but more importantly, I admire it's beauty and character.